


Everything I Like

by sovvannight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, POV Stiles Stilinski, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 05, Sharing a Bed, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28142205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sovvannight/pseuds/sovvannight
Summary: When Lydia wakes up from a nightmare, Stiles drives over to keep her company.
Relationships: Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 72





	Everything I Like

The vibration of his phone lying on the nightstand pulled Stiles out of his dream. Memories of being chased were already dissipating as he fumbled for the phone and answered without looking.

“Stiles? Are you awake?” There were tears in Lydia’s voice, and he sat up immediately.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m awake. What’s wrong?”

“I… I guess I was dreaming. A- a nightmare? Was it just a dream?”

He propped his phone between his ear and his shoulder while he started putting on his shoes. “What happened, in the dream? Did it feel…prophetic? Significant? Like your spidey sense is trying to tell you something?”

“I… I don’t know. It’s already fading. I guess it was just a nightmare.”

“I’m coming over.” He grabbed his keys and a hoodie and started down the stairs.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’ll be there in 5.”

The jeep started without a hitch for once; he kept up a stream of babble on the phone for the drive over. When he stepped up to her door, he knocked as softly as he could. 

Lydia opened the door and pulled him inside without a word. She flipped on a lamp once they were in her room with the door closed, and he could see she’d been crying.

“Hey, hey, you’re OK.” He pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back, trying hard not to notice her braless state beneath the thin tank. _Don’t be a creep, don’t think about her boobs._

They stood that way for several minutes until she pulled away, wiping her eyes. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t—I was having a nightmare, too. After everything we’ve been through, we should expect a few nightmares. Look, I’ll just sit with you, and that way you can get some sleep.” He pulled back the sheets on the side of the bed nearest him, the one that already looked rumpled from an unsuccessful attempt at sleep.

“Stay,” she said, and he immediately flashed back to another time she’d asked him to stay with her. At least she wasn’t drugged up enough to think he was Jackson, this time.

“OK.” Stiles stepped out of his shoes and brushed by her to slide under the covers. After rolling to the middle he patted the bed nearer her. “C’mere and spoon me.”

“Seriously?” At his arched eyebrow, she sighed. “Fine.”

The light clicked off and then the bed shifted, and oh, he did _not_ think this through, because her arm was wrapped around him and her forehead pressed against his shoulder and the smell of her perfume was everywhere and there was no way, _no way_ he was going to sleep a wink tonight.

Her hand shifted to settle a little higher on his chest. “Your heart’s pounding a mile a minute. Are you sure you’re OK?”

“Fine,” he tried to say, but his voice cracked. He took a deep breath and tried again. “I’m fine. Just, uh, you know, the nightmare.”

“Is that so?”

He sighed. “You know it’s not. What do you want me to say?”

“Maybe I don’t want you to say anything at all.” Her hand pressed against his chest as she shifted against him, and then she licked the shell of his ear and he groaned. Her hand pressed down so that he rolled onto his back even as she was moving to straddle him. His eyes had adjusted to the moonlight drifting in through the curtains, illuminating the small smile on her face as she pulled her tank top off and tossed it over her shoulder.

“Are you sure—” he started to ask, but then she leaned down and kissed him, and that was enough for him. If this was actually happening, if he’d stepped into some kind of alternate reality where Lydia was able to look at him as more than just a friend, he was just going to go with it. He ran his hands through her hair as he pulled her closer to deepen the kiss, then allowed one hand to drift down over the smooth skin of her back, enjoying the way she gasped. Sliding his hand down to her lower back, he carefully cradled her as he flipped them over.

“Hey!”

“I just wanna kiss you everywhere,” he mumbled as he peppered kisses across her cheek and down to her neck. He was completely focused on cataloging every reaction—the little hitch in her breath when he kissed that spot behind her ear, the gasp she made when he cupped one breast, the goosebumps that erupted over her skin as he leaned down and let his own rapid breathing blow over one already hardened nipple as he debated what to do next.

Before he could decide, he felt her tug at his t-shirt. “Off. I want to feel your skin against mine.”

He pulled it off and tossed it in the same direction she’d thrown her own top earlier, then leaned down to kiss her. “So smart, Lydia. You have the best ideas.” He resumed his place between her breasts.

She chuckled breathlessly. “I think that’s the first time a guy has ever complimented my brain in bed.”

“Really? Well, most guys are idiots.” Stiles shrugged and returned to his mission of trying to figure out without asking what Lydia preferred (licking and gentle biting when it came to her nipples, based on the way she arched off the bed and dug her nails into his back).

Stiles eventually moved down to kiss his way across her stomach, stopping to press his lips against her still-healing scar. She ran her hands through his hair, rubbing his scalp in comforting circles while he fought down the sudden surge of anxiety as he remembered that day.

Her hips rolled up against him impatiently, and he licked a line above the waistband of her sleep shorts. She reached between them and tugged the bow tied in the drawstring. He moved back to give her a little room as she wiggled out of the shorts.

He briefly wished for more light, because Lydia Martin was naked in bed with him and he wasn’t able to absorb every detail, but maybe the dark was better, because maybe this would never happen if it wasn’t dark. He moved back in to kiss the skin along her hipbone while resting a hand on her thigh, which, how was her skin so soft?

“Uh, Stiles…”

“What?” There was a beat where she took a deep breath but didn’t say anything. “Do you…do you not want—”

At the same time, she said, “Are you seriously going to—” and they laughed nervously.

“I won’t if you don’t like it, but I’d like to, uh, lick you.” The hand on her thigh slid up and in until he was inches from where he most wanted to be.

“I don’t know…” she whispered.

“You don’t know if you want me to?”

“I don’t know if I like it.”

Stiles took that in. “You’re not seriously saying that no guy’s ever done this for you.” Her muscles tightened, but she said nothing. “Like I said, idiots. Give me…two minutes, and if you don’t like it I’ll stop.” 

After a moment she relaxed and her legs parted in a silent invitation. He wasted no time in crawling over her so that he was kneeling between her legs instead of to the side, in order to have the best angle. He looked up at her one more time to check, and her eyes were shut, chest rising and falling with each rapid breath.

Stiles leaned in and liked a firm strip up her center, ending with a flick of the tip of his tongue against her clit, and her reaction was electric, every muscle tensing as she gasped loudly.

“Bad?” he asked.

“Oh my god, no. Do it again.”

He grinned and kissed her inner thigh once before reapplying himself. And now there was a whole new set of reactions to catalog—every gasp and moan as he alternated pressure with the flat of his lounge and circling her clit with just the tip, the way she got wetter and wetter with each move he made, her hands flung out to grip the sheets after he’d wordlessly complained when she’d pulled his hair too tightly.

She brought one of her hands up to cover her mouth, and it made him pause. “Uh, Lydia, you’re not going to Scream, are you? Like scream-scream? Shatter glass-type scream?”

She whispered, “No, I’m worried about perfectly normal human screaming because my mother is sleeping right down the hall.”

“Oh. Yeah, don’t want to wake her.”

“She’s pretty cool about things, but still…”

“OK, then, we’ll just be quiet.” He lowered his face toward her but she grabbed his hair to stop him. “You want me to stop? Because I kinda thought I would do this for another hour or two, see how many times I can make you come.”

“Oh, god, that’s…um, but I- I don’t want to come alone. I want you inside me.”

His breath left his lungs, and his own excitement, which he’d been ignoring, rushed to the forefront of his attention. “OK, that’s…that’s also an option. An excellent option.”

She laughed and tugged at his arm. “Come here.”

He lifted himself up and over her so that he could kiss her. 

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, but then pulled away. “Pants. Take them off.”

He squirmed out of them, thankful for the dark because he probably looked like an idiot. Lydia, meanwhile, was sitting up and rummaging around in the top drawer of her nightstand. “Found one,” she said and shut the drawer. 

She gently pushed him over onto his back and straddled his thighs in one fluid motion. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I haven’t really done anything for you. Yet.” Before he could say anything to that, she wrapped one hand around his dick, and he nearly lost his mind. 

She made an approving sound as she gave him a few slow strokes before his hand came up to stop her. “OK, that’s…I love it, really, but if don’t want _me_ to come alone you need to stop.”

She sighed. “Fine.” The next touch he felt was her rolling on the condom, and then she positioned herself and sank down onto him slowly. She stayed there for a moment, back arched, stripes of moonlight shining through her blinds illuminating her chest rising and falling as rapidly as his. And then she leaned over so that her hair formed a curtain around them, and their lips met as she began to move. 

Stiles, meanwhile, was focused on not coming immediately, because the sensation of being inside her was amazing. You were supposed to conjugate Latin to delay orgasm, right? Too bad he didn’t know any, and his traitorous brain was providing the least helpful Spanish verbs possible: Yo toque, I touch, tu toques, you touch, ella toque, she touches; yo amo, I love… “Fuck, Lydia!”

“I thought that’s what we were doing,” she said pertly, and he laughed.

“But what if we—” His hands slid up from where they’d been resting on her thighs to cup her ass, and the next time she rocked downward he thrust up to meet her, sliding in just a little bit deeper. She cried out against his neck and he froze. “Bad?”

She breathed out, “Do it again,” and he grinned. He let her set the pace and tried to hold back a little, because at the back of his mind was the idea that she was human, and he needed to be gentle with her. He kept one hand anchored on her ass but used the other to touch every sensitive spot he’d discovered earlier.

He was on the edge of endurance when shudders wracked her body. “So close,” she moaned against his neck.

“I’ve got you.” He circled her clit with his thumb while thrusting into her as fast as he could. She screamed into his mouth as she came, and the convulsions of her inner muscles around him were enough to take him over the edge. “Lydia, Lydia,” he moaned.

She collapsed on top of him and they lay there panting, still joined although he could feel himself softening inside her. After a few moments, he realized there was more wetness on his chest than could be accounted for by their sweat. “Are you crying?”

“No,” she said, but then she sniffled. 

He fumbled with the lamp on her nightstand, finally managing to switch it on without dislodging her. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, and Lydia buried her face against his chest. He rubbed his fingers against her scalp comfortingly. “Please talk to me. Did I do something wrong?”

She lifted her head at that. “Oh, no, that was perfect. Just a little too perfect, you know?” He sighed exasperatedly, and she continued, “That was spectacular, you have to know that.”

He ignored the little thrill her words sent through him, and said, “OK, so…”

“I just can’t help but think, if it’s just you, then I wasted so much time. I could’ve made a move months ago, after you and Malia broke up. Hell, I could’ve jumped your bones years ago.”

“Much as I’d like to take credit for that, I think that was us. Together.”

“Yeah, I think—” She bit her lip, then smiled tremulously. “I think that was what sex is like when you love your partner, and he loves you back.”

All the breath left his body, then a grin stole over his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

She slid upward to kiss him, but he stopped her. “Lydia, I do love you, but I’ve got to deal with this condom.”

She laughed and reached down and slid it off him. She crawled to the far side of the bed to drop in in a wastebasket, presumably, not that he actually saw her do it because he was too busy taking in the unimpeded view of her perfect ass. She turned around and caught him looking. “See anything you like?”

He said seriously, “I see everything I like.”

She threw herself at him, giggling, and kissed him until she had to pull away to yawn.

Stiles yawned in turn. “So maybe we should try sleeping again.” He lifted her off him and onto her side of the bed before rolling onto his side facing away from her. “Spoon me?”

She laughed and turned off the light before snuggling against him. He slipped his hand over hers where it was resting against his chest, and felt himself truly relaxing into sleep for the first time in months.

* * * * *

The next morning, Stiles woke up to the unfamiliar sound of a woman’s voice calling out, “Lydia, I’m headed out to get groceries, is there anyth—”

He rolled over to see Lydia’s mother standing in the doorway of Lydia’s bedroom, clearly taking in the two of them and the clothes strewn around the room and coming to the correct conclusion. “Well. Stiles. That’s interesting.” She shifted her attention back to her daughter while he clutched the comforter to his chest and struggled to find something to say. “Do you need anything from the store, other than the list on the fridge?”

Lydia was smiling in an impish way that boded trouble. “Hmm, maybe some whipped cream, for later?”

He slunk beneath the covers entirely. “Oh my god.”

“Well, that’s not happening,” her mother answered easily, “but I will pick up some condoms, since I’m not ready to be a grandmother.”

“Thanks, Mom, you’re the best!”

“And would Stiles like to stay for dinner? I’m making spaghetti.”

“Uh, sure,” he said from underneath the covers, forehead pressed against Lydia’s shoulder, feeling her body shake with silent laughter.

He heard the bedroom door shut again, and then Lydia flipped the comforter off his face. “Good morning! Wow, your face is red.”

“Your, your mom…was right there and I, we, uh, naked…” 

She laughed and cut him off with a kiss, and, oh, yeah, _naked_. Naked Lydia, kissing him, in his arms, running one hand along his jaw, velvety naked skin pressed up against his. She broke off the kiss to pull away so she could look down on him. “Hmm, stubble, that’s a different look for you. Not sure I like it.”

“It hurts. Uh, I’m told. Beard burn. So I’ll shave it off. I guess I should go home and…do that. Shower, change, that stuff.”

She smiled down at him. “Or, you could shower here.”

“Here?”

“Mom will be gone at least an hour shopping. That gives us plenty of time.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it without saying anything. She patted him on the cheek and then rolled out of bed and stretched, then pulled him out of bed and across the room into the attached bathroom.

When she saw herself in the mirror, she made a little moan of dismay. “My hair!” She attempted to smooth it down until he set a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s cute. And no worse than mine.” He winced at his own reflection before his eyes drifted down, to creamy skin displayed for a moment and then hidden again as her hair shifted.

Their eyes met in the mirror, and she smiled. “You’re so good for my ego.”

“Right, I’m so sure you need the confidence boost.”

“Yeah, it’s not like my new guy’s ex is half a foot taller and sufficiently thinner that she and I can’t share clothes or anything.”

He gaped at her. “You can’t doubt that you’re gorgeous, can you? I’m the one with reason to freak out here. I’ve seen both of your most recent former boyfriends shirtless in the locker room, and I know I don’t measure up.”

She rested both hands against his cheeks and looked into his eyes as she said slowly, “Do you know, sometimes I look at you and my mouth actually waters? I want to kiss every freckle, especially these two right here. I’m obsessed.” Her hand slid down to rest below his ear and she stroked the skin there lightly, raising goosebumps. “And your eyes are so beautiful, I always thought that, even before I saw that particular look you’re giving me right now, like you’re as turned on as I feel.

“And your hands, sometimes you’d touch me casually, my shoulder, my arm, innocent touches but it would still drive me wild, and I would imagine you touching me other places, without clothing as a barrier. I wonder that I ever manage to say anything intelligent around you anymore—I feel like I’m all hormones, no rationality, and…you can say something at any point here, Stiles.”

He slid his hands into her hair and tilted her head back. “Lydia,” he breathed out before kissing her, a kiss that quickly turned frantic.

She pulled away when they both became breathless. She glanced at him up and down, smiled slowly, then took a step back and hopped up a little to sit on the counter. “C’mere.” She parted her legs as he stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs loosely around his thighs, bringing them dangerously close together. “I want those freckles,” she murmured as she tilted her head to the side so she could kiss his neck, sucking the skin in and biting down gently.

His eyes drifted shut—it was almost too much stimulation, her mouth nibbling a path down his neck to his shoulder, her hands exploring his chest, heels digging into his ass in an oddly pleasurable way. 

He was panting and biting back a moan every time she found a sensitive spot. She returned to the freckles on his neck, which had turned out to be especially sensitive, and he gasped. “I love that sound,” she murmured against his skin. When he didn’t respond, she tilted her head back to look him in the eye. “Stiles, you’re OK, right?”

He opened his mouth and paused, struggling. “I’ve…I’ve lost the ability to form coherent thoughts. I want you so much.”

“Me, too,” she replied, and she looked so gorgeous with her flushed cheeks and heavy-lidded eyes that he couldn’t resist kissing her again while he slid a shaking hand between them to see for himself. He plunged two fingers inside while circling her clit with his thumb. He flicked his tongue against hers in the same rhythm as his hand. “Mmm, yes,” she said into his mouth, and then she wrapped a hand around him.

It was his turn to moan through their kisses as she stroked him, consciously or unconsciously moving at the same tempo as his fingers. He sped up and she followed until they were both shaking on the verge of an orgasm.

She broke away from his lips, tilting her head back to pant out, “Condoms. Middle drawer on your left.”

He fumbled through the drawer until he found a flat, rectangular packet and pulled it out, but it was an individually-packaged makeup wipe. 

Lydia laughed. “That won’t help. They’re tan-colored, I think.” 

He kept rifling through the drawer contents, chasing a flash of tan in the back corner. “Victory!” He held up the condom above his head.

“Give me that.” She pulled on his arm until he dropped the condom into the palm of her hand. She carefully ripped it open, teeth biting her lower lip in concentration, and Stiles felt a surge of love for her at that moment. She gave him a sultry smile before slowly rolling the condom onto him. “Now, Stiles, now.” She pulled him closer with her legs. 

He locked eyes with her as he used one hand to position himself before slowly pushing inside her. “Oh, god, Lydia. No more sex in the dark. This is so much better. I want to look into your eyes when we come.”

He wanted to make it last so he started off slow, pulling out almost all the way before gliding back in to the hilt in a steady rhythm. He couldn’t decide which was better about each inward stroke, the exquisite warmth surrounding him or the widening of her eyes, her slight exhalation, and the way her nails dug reflexively into his shoulders.

“Faster,” she said.

“But I want to make it last. I want to do this forever.”

“Faster.” As he surged inward the next time she clamped her inner muscles around him, making him see stars.

“What the hell was that? Oh my god.”

She smirked. “Faster,” she whispered, and he complied, because what else could he do? He watched her face as he went harder and faster, clinging to control until she tilted her head back and screamed as her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm. Then he let go, groaning against her shoulder as his fingers struggled for a grip on sweat-dampened skin. He sucked in air as if he’d just finished a cross-country run, and felt her doing the same.

“God, we’re good at that,” she gasped out, and he laughed.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. But we have to get in the shower. I feel gross. In the best way,” she added, then licked the hollow formed by his collarbone.

He jerked away from her slightly, because damn that felt good. “No funny business, ma’am, showering only. Because I think another round might actually kill me.” He took a step back and held a hand out, which she clutched as she slid down off of the counter.

Lydia turned on the water and tested it before turning to him. “So, what are your plans for the day?”

Stiles ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, I don’t know. Scott’s working all day, so I had sort of planned on getting chores out of the way—I need to do laundry, at least. Uh, having dinner with you and your mom, right? Uh, you wouldn’t want to do something after that, like, go to a movie or something?”

“Like a date?” Her eyes widened in mock surprise.

His heart sank at her sarcastic tone. “I mean, not if you don’t want to, obviously. And I—”

“I’m just joking! Of course I want to go on a date with you. Stiles, I love you!”

“Oh!”

“Haven’t I said that multiple times in the past 12 hours?”

“Well, yeah, but, uh, heat of the moment, I wasn’t sure—”

Lydia sighed exasperatedly, then stepped out of the shower spray to be close enough to pull him down for a quick kiss. “I want to go on dates with you. I want to call you my boyfriend. I want…everything.”


End file.
